d began to caress the waking
baby.
Meanwhile Sylvestre had been talking to Plumet at the other end of the
room.
"Out of the question," said the frame-maker; "we are up to our knees in
arrears; twenty orders waiting."
"I ask you to oblige me as a friend."
"I wish I could oblige you, Monsieur Lampron; but if I made you a
promise, I should not be able to keep it."
"What a pity! All was so well arranged, too. The sketch was to have been
hung with my two engravings. Poor Fabien! I was saving up a surprise for
you. Come and look here."
I went across. Sylvestre opened his portfolio.
"Do you recognize it?"
At once I recognized them. M. Charnot's back; Jeanne's profile, exactly
like her; a forest nook; the parasol on the ground; the cane stuck into
the grass; a bit of genre, perfect in truth and execution.
"When did you do that?"
"Last night."
"And you want to exhibit it?"
"At the Salon."
"But, Sylvestre, it is too late to send in to the Salon. The Ides of
March are long past."
"Yes, for that very reason I have had the devil of a time, intriguing
all the morning. With a large picture I never should have succeeded; but
with a bit of a sketch, six inches by nine--"
"Bribery of officials, then?"
"Followed by substitution, which is strictly forbidden. I happened to
have hung there between two engravings a little sketch of underwoods not
unlike this; one comes down, the other is hung instead--a little bit
of jobbery of which I am still ashamed. I risked it all for you, in the
hope that she would come and recognize the subject."
"Of course she will recognize it, and understand; how on earth could she
help it? My dear Sylvestre, how can I thank you?"
I seized my friend's hand and begged his forgiveness for my foolish
haste of speech.
He, too, was a little touched and overcome by the pleasure his surprise
had given me.
"Look here, Plumet," he said to the frame-maker, who had taken the
sketch over to the light, and was studying it with a professional eye.
"This young man has even a greater interest than I in the matter. He is
a suitor for the lady's hand, and you can be very useful to him. If you
do not frame the picture his happiness is blighted."
The frame-maker shook his head.
"Let's see, Antoine," said a coaxing little voice, and Madame Plumet
left the cradle to come to our aid.
I considered our cause as won. Plumet repeated in vain, as he pulled his
beard, that it was impossibl
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